


Grantaire's descent into mental hell

by Justdateabarricadeboy



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4024849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justdateabarricadeboy/pseuds/Justdateabarricadeboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title pretty much sums it up.<br/>Grantaire has a rough life. It gets rougher as we go on. Just a short one shot that I felt like writing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grantaire's descent into mental hell

Grantaire was 14.   
14 and confused. Later he would admit that confused just meant bi, but then Grantaire was trying to convince himself that he was not gay, he had just thought that the guy in Courf’s FaceBook post from camp was a girl. That must have been it.  
Grantaire was 14.  
14 and he honest to god hated himself. He’d never admit anything about the hating himself part later because he’d never really figure out how to deal with it. He was 14 and bright eyed with innocence, but downstairs he could hear his mom yelling and his dad’s voice reverberating against the walls and suddenly he didn’t feel so bright eyed and he felt somewhat like he wanted his life to stop.  
Grantaire was 14.   
14 and the world was spinning way too fast for him to actually stand still for even half a second and it was getting on midnight and the constant sound hadn’t stopped yet and why did everything hurt and yet why did he feel nothing?  
Grantaire was 14.  
14 and he could feel the world slipping through his fingers and he was losing control and he forgot about that set of X-Acto knives his mom had bought him for christmas because she thought he might like them for his art.  
People have called what he did an “art” before.  
Grantaire was 14  
14 and he felt nothing.  
All he could see were dashes of red across his otherwise pale forearm.

Grantaire was 16  
16 and he knew for a fact that Courf’s camp friend was a boy and that regardless, he was pretty damn hot.   
And Grantaire didn’t care.  
Grantaire was 16  
16 and he was so past caring that his parents had stopped trying.  
There was a silent agreement between the three:  
Grantaire could ignore the shouting that kept him up half the night if his parents could ignore the long sleeves that he had insisted on wearing for the past two years.  
Grantaire was 16  
16 and he had met some other cool people who were just as apathetic as him, he was blowing off Courf constantly to get stoned; Courfeyrac barely noticed. Courfeyrac had new friends.  
Grantaire was 16  
16 and almost everything seemed to hurt,   
16 and he probably drank more in a day than most legal adults did in a year.

Grantaire was 18   
18 and going to college which he really just saw as an excuse to get out of his house. He hadn’t wanted to go to college in the first place, but someone saw his art and they offered him a scholarship.  
Grantaire didn’t like people looking at his art.  
Grantaire was 18  
18 and he was sitting under a maple tree on campus drawing and drinking from an unlabelled bottle when he saw Him. He was tall and blonde, walking with various friends including Courfeyrac. Courfeyrac who had eventually just stopped talking to Grantaire after a while.  
Grantaire was 18 and possibly in love. The blonde walked with a purpose in front of his laughing friends. He looked so above it all. So powerful. So… mmm.  
18 and he had a few friends. Most of which he just got drunk with some of which he actually spoke to.   
18 and he was doing fine in school.  
18 and his parents bragged about his full ride for his art.   
18 and his parents wanted him to be home for the first time.  
18 and he had no idea where home was.  
18 and maybe home was really just that bottle of whiskey and they way the liquor felt when it hit the back of his throat.

Grantaire was 19   
19 and had somehow started hanging out with Courfeyrac and his political friends.  
19 and so passionately in love with the blonde from before. The blonde who just so happened to be Courfeyrac’s camp friend from the FaceBook post. The blonde who literally made Grantaire bi.   
He hated his life.  
19 and the blonde, Enjolras, hated him.  
19 and he found himself constantly drunk or high.  
19 and his parents started calling less.  
19 and everyday the world spun around him and he tried to grasp at strings of hope to gain control but they always slipped. He always slipped. And for some reason Enjolras could pull him up even though he had this way of making him feel like he hated himself, but he loved it.  
19 and he was more broken than ever and his walls as high as they could possibly be and he could feel everything inside him falling to pieces and he honest to god didn’t know why he was still alive and everything hurt.  
Grantaire was 19 and a masochist.

Grantaire was 20 and nothing really mattered anymore.

Grantaire was 21 and he could legally drink.  
what did that even mean?

Grantaire was 22  
22 and it had been two years since anything was really important but now he found hope in a pair of blue eyes and a red hoodie, hood pulled over blonde curls.  
Grantaire was 22 and Enjolras was kissing him  
and nothing else mattered.   
Grantaire was 22 and he knew that home wasn't a bottle of whiskey; home was him curled in Enjolras’ arms and the way he made him feel so… whole.  
22 and maybe everything could be okay.


End file.
